curiano
della floreste by Steve Ely
they
seek him here TELL ME YOU MOTHERFUCKER well chop your sons arm off stick
a poker up your daughters ass nail her cuntlips to the table TELL ME
they seek him there im warning you well saw off your wifes head with
a bread knife shoot its eyes out in the piazza TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK
IS HE
The
studio lights disappear in a fan-like array of almost gymnastic sweetness
and the feel of velour- 60's style...
a monk
is left on the other side
still holding the weight
of the fat lady.
and chains.
of
writing poems
to
write a poem is to make an assumption
that words can do things they can't,
like trapping time in a net of lies,
Labor
Relations
Disgruntled
employees
are finding satisfaction
by discharging the boss
with a firearm.
armchair
of soul
my
real
education
came
from
an
armchair
in
a
public
library
What
I Don't Know about What I Know
Did
Coltrane eat eggs or oatmeal for breakfast?
Did Robert Frost masturbate with his left hand or his right?
